2011. Dir: John Madden. Starring: Judi Dench, Bill Nighy, Dev Patel, Tom Wilkinson and Maggie Smith. ●●●○○
I can highly recommend watching the trailer for John Madden's The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, it's a delightful piece of advertising with a distinctive palette, easily definable characters and the odd laugh out loud line delivery. Unfortunately I cannot recommend the movie as a whole which somehow drags that trailer over two hours without further developing the characters, providing tension or even giving the audience many more laughs.
In the pre-credits sequences we are introduced to the great and good of British acting talent through a series of short vignettes designed to develop an understanding of back-story and hint at the personalities. There's everything from Judi Dench as the resilient widow to Tom Wilkinson's down-to-earth judge stopping off at Bill Nighy and Penelope Wilton as a bickering pair of retirees choosing how to spend their later years with reduced incomes. One by one they are seduced by the tempting offer of the best exotic marigold hotel, a palce converted into a residential home for senior citizens looking for adventure and not quite requiring care.
As our dysfunctional septet make their journey to Jaipur, mixing for the first time on the plane out you rather hope their stories will intertwine, however oddly right until the end it feels like separate tales. Even as one pair find a common cause whilst another share the beginnings of an illicit romance there's never a feeling of cohesion within the group. Each day the characters go off alone to face or hide away from the world, each night they return to the culinary challenges placed on them by the hotel's love starved owner Dev Patel.
This literary convention of presenting a collection of characters all of whom must have an arc in which to travel probably works very well in Deborah Moggach's novel but I find it irritating beyond belief. In two hours it's simply too much to ask from an audience to make them care about so many personalities, so their storylines either feel irrelevant or hopelessly shortened. It's not helped by most of cast who seem content to take the money and run. Judi Dench reprises her "As Time Goes By" performance only with less one liners, whilst Tom Wilkinson reveals a secret he's kept hidden, tearing away at his soul for over 30 years, with all the gravitas of someone admitting to eating marmite with a spoon.
Maggie Smith does the best she can with an underwritten role, effectively playing a threatened working class racist bigot at the beginning and a entrepreneur with purpose at the end; it's not her fault that the scene where she undergo's her transformation makes no sense. Does she really embrace Indian culture just because an untouchable lets her rant about her life in service? By the way how old is she?
Only Celia Imrie as a glamorous granny looking for husband number 4 and Dev's over the tops pride inject any life into the film, and the scene they share just past the halfway mark is a moment of delightful farce. And no, I'm not going to tell you what happens, other than it involves a chain of misunderstanding starting with the wrong people getting in bed together.
I suppose one of the reasons that scene shines is because there were laughs to be had that hadn't already been shown in the trailer. Make no mistakes this isn't a comedy, it's a series of life lessons with comedic elements, and I rather believe that amping up the comedy may have helped the film. There were moments in the trailer that made me chortle out loud, but stretched out across the running time it felt awfully thin, just the odd joke at the expense of the more extreme characters surrounded by the self-satisfied blog posts of Judi's silver surfer. When she tapped out "With so many old people together it was inevitable one of us would die..." I nearly screamed at the screen in disgust. The average age of the 7 actors is barely 65 and none of them - bar Maggie Smith and her plot developing broken hip - look remotely like age is slowing them down, even the character that does die simply slips away during an afternoon slumber once their storyline has been resolved. It's nothing like the pain and torment and inherent boredom most of us will experience in old age.
There's not even much given to the Indian actors either. Sure Patel along with his girlfriend and mother, played by Tena Desae and Lillete Dubey respectively, have a soap opera level storyline along the lines of following your heart over tradition and family expectations, but aside from them no other Indian gets a look in. There's even two moments when Dench and Wilkinson refer to long conversations they have had independently with a husband and wife whose connection to the group has rocked their relationship to it's core, yet all we hear is a precis from the mouths of our middle class heroes.
All this sounds like I'm ragging on the film, but to be honest I did like it when I was watching. It was nice, the location work was fabulous, as Wilkinson says in the trailer "[I see the] light, colours, smiles. All life is here.", and he's right India is stunning, if nothing else this is a brilliant tourist video for the sub-continent.
I can't say I recommend it. But if you're seeing it for free don't say no. And do try out the trailer.
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Rampart
2011. Dir: Oren Moverman. Starring: Woody Harrelson, Ned Beatty, Ben Foster, Sigourney Weaver and Robin Wright. ●●●●○
It's been a surprisingly long time since I last saw a film that was visually as stunning and arresting as Oren Moverman's Rampart. There are many positive elements to this movie, many aspects of sublime filmmaking that will stick in the memory for a long time, but above all there is the cinematography. Moverman has collaborated again with his The Messenger
DoP Bobby Bukowski and together they have thrown away the rule book, and made a piece of visual art for the screen.
In essence the story can be boiled down to the slow disintegration of corrupt cop Dave Brown, Woody Harrelson giving a career best performance, a violent racist bigot in a LA Rampart division uniform, the scandal (a widely reported culture of cops acting like vigilante gangs and committing violent and profit orientated acts) distilled into one individual. Not that Brown can be remotely described as an archetype, he's barely holding himself together at the beginning, father of two girls who mothers happen to be sisters living next door to each other, he functions purely on alcohol and cigarettes, routinely bullying his female partner and picking up one night stands in seedy bars. Known as "Date-Rape Dave", a moniker based on the alleged murder of a serial rapist Brown has avoided being charged for for years, an example of the vicious animal lurking within.
Yet even this thin veneer of normality is torn apart when he brutally retaliates against a motorist who crashes into the side of his patrol car. It is a cold and hard beating, captured on film by a passer-by, instantly going viral. Brown is taken off front line duty, temporarily, in the whirlwind of appalling press and daily campaigning the department, headed by Sigourney Weaver, attempt to oust him. It's when he decides to fight, when he faces the mounting defence bills that events spiral out of control.
Harrelson is perfect in roles like this, even as his most dislikeable there's a shimmer of magnetic insouciance, like the string of sexual conquests (former wives Anne Heche and Cynthia Nixon, lovers Audra McDonald and Robin Wright) we find ourselves drawn to Dave. We want to be part of his world. It's testament to Harrelson's performance that even during the depths of depravity he can still draw us in, the cracks of mental defeat, the threats and pleading with his family and friends are never far behind his crumpling facade.
The rest of the performances are also high class. Robin Wright gives a brittle and wounded performance as a lawyer flickering around Brown, like a moth round a flame, a flame that will ultimately burn her. Ned Beatty also reminds us of his electric presence, as a retired cop still in tune with everything going on in the department, Machivellian and reptilian he toys with Brown, playing him off against the department.
The screenplay by Moverman and novelist James Ellroy contains the later's trademark staccato dialogue in a way that no adaptation of his work has managed, indeed the downbeat sprawling open feel towards the end is more Ellroy that anyone could have imagined.
But all this is a sideshow to Bukowski's work behind the camera. He uses Brown's breakdown as an opportunity to showcase new ideas with design, from a dizzying dance of pans during a tribunal to the nightmarish vision of a swingers club each scene dazzles with invention. We get conversations filmed from behind people's heads, repeated uses of reflected light, even the city skyline looks ominous and unusual in Bokowski's lens.
I must recommend Rampart to everyone who gets the opportunity to see it, a fantastic powerhouse of a film that beguiles and overcomes the audience. A must see.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
War Horse
2011. Dir: Steven Spielberg. Starring: Jeremy Irvine, Emily Watson, Peter Mullan, David Thewlis and Niels Arestrup. ●●●○○
Each film, each work of art in fact, has a story outside of it's plot of narrative. It's simply impossible in our era of electronic communications to avoid building expectations of a project based on it's genesis, the creative team involved or the relentless marketing drive including the reactions from press and critics. In the case of Steven Spielberg's War Horse, adapted directly from Michael Morpurgo's critically acclaimed children's novel - although clearly influenced by the award winning National Theatre production famed for it's innovative puppetry - the narrative revolves around the stories capacity to reduce otherwise robust individuals to uncontrollable crying machines, quivering with spasms of weeping. At every stage of the production process the audience have been reminded of the emotional resonance, the trailer brought a lump to my throat and even at the Royal Premiere here in the UK last week the papers obsessed with the Duchess of Cambridge's tears. And yet, and yet...
I watched the film and did not cry.
Don't get me wrong I am neither cold hearted (I cry when I hear the Marseillaise) nor am I resistant to sentimentalism, indeed last year I placed Warrior on my top ten best film list purely on it's impact on my lacrimal system. But War Horse failed to get a response.
Why did it fail? And what does that mean it terms of the quality of the movie?
If you haven't yet seen the movie (play/read the book) it follows a typical boy and his pet plotline, with the two apparent soulmates drawn together through a series of unlikely co-incidences followed by an even more horrific passage of separation which inevitable leads to reconciliation prior to a satisfying (or deeply shocking, depending on the writer) denouement. Here the Devon farming idyll (surprisingly comfortable looking cottage for a hand to mouth tenant, with a plough half buried in the middle of a rock infested field and Emily Watson threatening moustache twirling landowner David Thewlis with knitting needles) is shattered by the First World War whereupon Peter Mullan's cash strapped alcoholic sells the eponymous equine, Joey, to Tom Hiddleston's cavalry captain. The war than conspires to keep Joey and his trainer Albert Narracott (played winsomely by newcomer Jeremy Irvine) apart for the majority of the movie.
The film allows Albert's side of the story to slip into the background and bravely concentrates on the neutral animal innocently assisting it's latest owner, whether David Kross' teenage deserter, jam-making Frenchman Niels Arestrup or an underdeveloped German artillery sergeant, culminating in Joey's panicked gallop through no man's land temporarily paused by entanglements of barbed wire.
This episodic structure is largely responsible for my own lack of empathy, the many brief human handlers whisk by without developing the characters sufficiently, reducing their sacrifices to punchlines, mere obstacles for Joey to clamber across before that final inevitable reunion. Even the war is hell motif that we identify with the Great War is somehow softened, and I'm not just talking about the soft approach to carnage, an understandable concession in what amounts to a children's movie but the sanitised trenches and the lack of pause for the human (even horse) cost of the conflict. Supporting characters die, lush farmland is ravaged, the camera pans over fields of animal and human corpses, but all this is dressing to the horse and his boy plot. That said two metaphors did work for me: the gradual increase in violent imagery with the first character death pointedly offscreen and the final push over the trenches as visceral as you could expect (bearing in mind it's no Private Ryan) and rise of technology evidenced with the tank signifying the equine cost has been to no purpose. Although what that tank thought it was doing is anyone's guess.
The design and look of the picture is excellent, in interviews Spielberg has rightly talked up Dartmoor as being a character in it's own right, grounding the movies home front sections. Janusz Kaminski shoots the moor like a Fordian homage, complete with painterly sunsets and rugged landscapes. Later his lensing of the Western Front, whether in the nightmarish chase by Joey or the eerie coming together of two lowly corporals freeing the animal and evoking the Christmas Day truces, adds a mysticism sorely needed.
Ultimately War Horse doesn't rise to the occasion, and whilst I can grudgingly recommend it, I think it's safe to say the play may be a better option.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn
2011. Dir: Steven Spielberg . Starring: Jamie Bell, Andy Serkis, Daniel Craig, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. ●●●●○
Unsurprisingly Steven Spielberg latest big budget roller coaster has conquered the box office across Europe, including a record breaking haul (non-sequel American movie) in France. Unsurprising not because of Spielberg, or for the cult cast list, or for the motion capture 3D presentation, but because The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn are based on one of the most successful cartoon characters of all time with over 350 million copies of his adventures sold - translated into 80 languages. I was a fan as a child, regularly borrowing the books from my local library, even using copies in it's native French to help me learn the language as a teenager, so it was with some trepidation that I went to see the adaptation, fearing the emotional connection to my youth would force me to find fault. Luckily the British trio of screenwriters, Steven Moffat, Edgar Wright and Joe Cornish, are able to transfer the flow and meaning of the comics to the screen, unfortunately whilst this makes for a delightfully quick romp it also highlights the flaws of the comic book medium.
Based on a mixture from Herge's stories we follow Tintin (Jamie Bell) as he gets entangled with the mysterious Unicorn, a 17th century Naval vessel that was lost with all hands and a priceless pirates booty, and it's replica models. The trail leads him across oceans, deserts and his own countryside (I assume this adaptation moves him from Belgium to the UK as he pays in pounds), encountering favourite characters from the books like the irrepressible drunk Captain Haddock (Serkis), the dubious detectives Thom(p)son twins (Pegg and Frost) and the Milanese Nightingale Bianca Castafiore (Kim Stengel, virtually the only female character in the cast), all the while accompanied by his faithful terrier Snowy, and chased by villainous emigre Ivanovich Sakharine (Daniel Craig).
The titular reporter has to be the unluckiest man/boy (his indeterminate age and social background aren't cleared up in this film) as not five minutes have gone by before a panting American is shot on his doorstep and his flat is ransacked, even crossing the road turns a hitherto peacefully foggy road into speed trials. This relentless action, taken it's cues from the books aim to always end a page on a cliffhanger, keeps the movie moving on at an exciting pace, but robs each sequence of it's threat. When a rottweiler gives chase to Tintin in the early scenes you already feel it won't be long before a deus ex machina comes along rescuing him from certain doom. Of course we know before the opening credits that Tintin's safe as houses, but a little more tension might have been appreciated.
This over-reliance on action also comes at the expense of character depth, I admit the lead has always been a bit of a cypher but surely the relationship between him and Haddock (or even Snowy) could have been drawn out with dialogue, rather then the furious intercutting of the Unicorn's potted history.
Of course there are moments where the action is delightfully appropriate, and fully justifies the otherwise unnecessary motion capture technology, especially the Moroccan chase sequence, shot a in a single take it's Heath Robinson complexity has our heroes (starting in a motorcycle and sidecar) follow the dastardly Sakharine and his trained hawk down the slopes to the port whilst a raging torrent of reservoir is released behind them. It's visually stunning, edge of the seat stuff that simply could not be filmed with any amount of stunt work or computer effects.
Andrew L. Jones' art direction, seemingly a tautology when the sets are created in a computer, captures the between the wars aesthetic and character designs, all noses and chins, are cleverly reworked from the simple drawing they're derived from. Odd flashes of dead eyes and over-realistic body parts (why was I distracted by arm hair at one point?) probably argue against the technology though.
And yet, and yet... In spite of all these complaints whilst I watched the film I thoroughly enjoyed it. The plot may be bobbins, the motion capture still not perfected, the action over-stuffed and the comedy painfully unfunny, but so were the comics and I sat there transfixed, captivated by the pure joy of the film, the chance to converse with my inner six year old. And not only was I mesmerised so was every child in my screening, that sat with wide eyed wonder, gleefully accepting every twist and turn, agog at the colour and speed of the images, unaware this is a pale imitation of Spielberg's earlier exploits with 1930's adventurers. They enjoyed it for what it was, and so did I, and so will you.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Contagion
2011. Dir: Steven Soderbergh. Starring: Laurence Fishburne, Jennifer Ehle, Matt Damon, Kate Winslet and Jude Law. ●●●○○
Contagion does a great job of changing the way you think. For a few hours after leaving the cinema I was afraid to touch door handles, hand driers, bar snacks, nervous of using public transport and definitely avoiding coughing in peoples faces. All of these apparently harmless activities now seem to invite painful inevitable death. One minute you could be throwing dice in Macau, gleefully planning to shag your ex, and the next your cranium will be cut in half by nervous pathologists. Steven Soderbergh's clinical thriller, analysing the likely response to a global pandemic, certainly ratchets up the tension but objective approach and multiple storylines prevents the audience from empathising with the characters and ultimately we left with the impression of a heavy handed Government Information broadcast.
Picking up the story from day 2 and the first anonymous victim stumbling under a lorry in his Hong Kong Soderbergh has deliberately avoided the usual disaster movie conventions, instead he's trying to understand the likely battle against a rogue flu. So we follow Laurence Fishburne's head of the Centre for Disease Control, with his field operative Kate Winslet trying to contain the virus and his top scientist Jennifer Ehle finding a way to beat it. All the while Matt Damon's everyman and Jude Law's harbinger of doom blogger are caught up and carried along by the collapse of society as fear and desperation become even more viral than the initial bug.
Soderbergh is trying to replicate his success with Traffic, weaving a multi-character arc around an issue we will all face from time to time, however the storylines don't provide enough of a variation to create a satisfying whole. In his 2000 masterpiece each of the major plot informed reactions to the others, here they feel tacked on, even when Fishburne and Law debate their point on TV news or when Marion Cotillard surveys Gwynneth Paltrow's last steps these seem ultimately disconnected events. Some sections manage to make an interesting case to have seen more of - ultimately the CDC sections are the most compelling - however others seem unnecessarily sparse (Cotillard is especially hard done by) and Matt Damon's personal travails come across as petty and small - and he loses his wife and stepson in the first 10 minutes of the film!
The messiness also seems to detract from the central thesis, the status quo for mankind isn't panic and disorder but trust and sacrifice. The scientist that tests a drug on herself, the reasercher who gives up a coat, the man in a queue picking up a passport, the importance of a handshake. These are the minor moments that define us as human beings.
We do see some nice performances, Jennifer Ehle's resourcefulness is a highlight, as is Elliott Gould's proud academic (a character I really wanted to see more of), indeed none of the cast are doing a bad job it's just a shame so many of them have very little to do.
Steven's work as a cinematography also throwbacks back to his earlier experiments with colour filters, here a sickly green hue permeates through the action, queasily altering our general perception. There are also some nice touches with out-of-focus shooting, even if we have seen all these before. The script also provides some belters, "Blogging isn't writing, it's graffiti with punctuation." easily winning plaudits as the most quotable line. So naturally I repeat here - spraypainting my thoughts on the wall of the internet.
Overall I would say this is a competent movie and would recommend it (if only to make everyone think twice about going to work when they have a cold) but I couldn't help thinking probably had something better inside of it, maybe a much longer miniseries or jettisoning the other stories and focusing on the work of the CDC could've have kept the film sharper.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Midnight in Paris
2011. Dir: Woody Allen. Starring: Owen Wilson, Marion Cotillard, Rachel McAdams, Michael Sheen and Corey Stoll. ●●●●○
Long time readers will know I have a masochistic relationship with Woody Allen, the sort of loyal passion to his work that brings me out to see all his releases, no matter how critically reviled. I have seen a number of truly awful films but every now and then he surprises and whilst his latest movie Midnight in Paris doesn't reach the heady heights of his 1970's-80's heyday, nor does it quite top his most recent return to form Vicky Cristina Barcelona however it is a delightful oddity that will be an enjoyable night out for any pseudo-intellectual or nostalgist.
Allen chooses to open with a jazz-scored montage of postcard scenes of modern Paris, it's bustling and beautiful and whilst the devise drags a little it's clear he's aim is to set up the romanticism of the city, a parade of lovers walking in the rain, scuttling boulevards with tiny cafes, a city of culture, architecture and wistful yearning. The extent of Allen's idolatry is to underline how his vision of Paris varies from other cities; this isn't the noisy, mishmash of Manhattan or the grimy morally complex London, instead it's a clear-cut city of Romance, a place where art can transport reality and magic might just come true.
We are then introduced to Luke Wilson's Gil Pender, a California hack visiting Paris with fiancee Inez (Rachel McAdams) and finding inspiration for his novel from the Parisien vibe and Monet's Water Lily's. Slipping away from the stifling company of his future-in-laws and hectoring friends, he is picked up by an out of place 1920's Peugeot at the stroke of midnight and transported to a party filled with snazzily dressed gents and flappers. But appearances, or at least perceptions of appearances, cannot be trusted. This is no costume party with cigarette paper games but a time travel mystery, Pender has slipped back in time and is now hobnobbing with Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, being crooned at by Cole Porter and receiving literary advice from Hemingway and Gertrude Stein.
In the hands of a less self-assured writer the mechanics of the sci-fi premise may be explored and investigated, but the physics of this don't matter to Allen, even surrogate Pender is only mildly flabbergasted, stuttering and confused but not beyond asking Hemingway to read his manuscript. Instead his main concern is the feeling of escape inherent in the concept, Pender is obsessed with the past, his novel is set in a nostalgia shop, he yearns openly to have experienced the roaring 20's. His obsession comes from a need to escape the present, whether it's the vague distrust of modern US politics or the insufferable circumstances of his life, and it's no wonder that he seeks to escape.
In his trips to the past he falls for the luminous Marion Cotillard, shot in the style of romantic Hollywood, lit perfectly with soft focus she bursts from the screen, an untouchable beauty. But secretly she yearns to be equally transported back, wishing to revisit the Belle Epoque, Allen wants us to know that wishing for the past is fine, but there too nostalgia for bygone eras is rife and inescapable.
The film soars in it's time bending passages, whether it's Corey Stoll's machismo laden line-readings as Hemingway, or the farcical discussion between Pender and the Surrealists, with Adrien Brody squeezing every syllable of rhinocerous to great comic effect, or the gorgeous costuming and the plaintive musical cues, however in the modern world the movie misfires. McAdams' shrill performance, backed by her grotesquely rich republican parents and pedantic college alumni Michael Sheen, makes you wonder why the outwardly personable Pender would associate with any of these people let alone consider marrying them. Inez is the kind of horrific stereotype that lurches from blatant mistrust of the working classes to open disloyalty about her partner's work. The resolution of that aspect of the the story seems false and rushed, which perhaps might have worked better if Inez was a more sympathetic character.
I also find Allen's recent tendency to judge his characters and his non-audiences off-putting. It's fine to describe the Tea Party as crypto-fascist zombies, I may even agree with that assessment, but it's no way to win an argument against their policies. Equally Sheen is loathed for his pseudo-intellectual oratory, the low-point being when he tries to correct Carla Bruni's tour guide, but the audience cheer when Pender uses the same trick in giving background to a Picasso, quoting Kathy Bates' Gertrude Stein as if that's the only opinion that matters and smacking down Sheen with a description of it's lineage. If it's not about the rudeness of the act then it must be about the accuracy of the opinion, therefore it's fine to be a prick if you're right and you share the intellectual insight of Stein.
I disagree with Allen, to value one artistic interpretation over another is unbearably snobbish, the appreciation of art is purely subjective and whilst understanding the background and influences may aid in the discussion of form and content the feelings inspired are equally valid whether the audience is aware or not.
That probably sounds like a rant, and possibly that's undeserved. I really liked Woody Allen's latest, and I would recommend it to anyone, it's a lovely little piece that will transport you back to a gentler time, but I doubt it's anything more than that.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
One Day
2011. Dir: Lone Scherfig. Starring: Anne Hathaway, Jim Sturgess, Patricia Clarkson, Rafe Spall and Ken Stott. ●●●○○
One Day is a beloved book. David Nicholl's 2009 romantic novel spent an age at the top of the best-selling lists, won the 2010 Galaxy book of the year and inspired dozens of books clubs to cluck over the changing fortunes of Em and Dex. I hated it, but it succeeds at what it tries to achieve.
The 2011 page to screen adaptation has crashed and burnt on the international box office, taking just $21m so far in global sales and failing to even achieve the number one spot in the UK. Fans of the novel have nitpicked over every details, loathing the cuts and despairing of Anne Hathaway's accent. I liked it, but it fails to hits it's goals.
I say all this to illustrate the massive gap between the written word and cinematic art, between our expectations of literature of film, between each patrons empathy and understanding of the characters and situations presented. Or one man's meat is another man's poison.
The central conceit of the novel is that it follows our soulmates over 20 anniversaries of their first meeting, catching up with their trials and tribulations by presenting their thoughts on each St. Swithin's Day between 1988 and 2008. In the novel there is political and cultural parallels to the death of yuppieism and disillusionment with New Labour which are jettisoned for the film and replaced with sly commentary on changing fashion and technological advances (curiously though Emma local swimming baths remain freakishly unchanged for the majority of the films running time, no neo-facist supergym identity or slide concessions there).
Although plenty of experience of romantic comedy staples will ensure all readers/viewers are keenly aware Em and Dex are meant to be together they both drift aimlessly away from each other for the majority of the novel, delving into increasingly unsuitable relationships and experiencing alternating highs and lows of personal and professional success. Only in the final reel when Dex has had fatherhood thrust upon him and Em finds hidden layers in confidence through her children's novels can either character grow up and admit to the mutual attraction and the necessary compromises and strains in any relationship. In the novel we get an insight into the motivations of the central couple, experience their inner monologues each year to feel their yearning, and yet oddly it's only in the film that I fully appreciated the relationship had to wait for 17 years before it had a ghost of a chance of succeeding, that until then it would have failed.
That success lies in the casting of the central couple. Anne Hathaway has form playing the intelligent girl refusing to trade on her looks (Devil Wears Prada, to some extent Love and Other Drugs), and indeed she doesn't disappoint, underplaying the caustic Em and allowing the vulnerability to shine through. (To address the elephant in the room the accent was fine, inconsistent but only in a "I have a regional accent that I'm ashamed of" way which worked in the context of a de-politicised movie but would not have been the accent of the Trotskyite anti-war demonstrator we have in the novel). Sturgess too is on top form, humanising the frankly ghastly Dexter, a character I despised in the novel, his haunting eyes remind us through the 'Largin' It' period of ultra-excess that underneath the coke-snorting swagger there's a little boy who's lost his ability to communicate with real people.
Rafe Spall is also deservedly picking up plaudits as Emma's long term boyfriend Ian, a failed stand-up with a manic desire to please and an instinctive shuffling presence. Although like in the novel there's little explanation to why the couple ended up settling for each other as both seem to be aware there's no future in the relationship. Ken Stott also does a fine job as Dex's father, stand-offish and decidedly British the one to one he has with Dex at the end is knowing and full of acceptance of their shared experiences.
Why then, if the performances are generally so good, does this film fail? It's purely because Nicholl's has adapted it from his highly acclaimed book. Being keenly aware of the fans delight in seeing their favourite scenes and hearing their favourite quotes he over-indulges their fantasies retaining the idealised language and packing in the most delicious incidents. And whilst pronouncements such as "If I could give you just one gift, do you know what it would be? Confidence. That or a scented candle." or "I love you, Dex, so much. I just don't like you anymore." are just as delightful on the screen as you would hope the average five and a bit minutes per year gets exhausting. By messing with the timelines and reducing the number of visits, as sacrilegious as that sounds, might has eased that tension. Really what was the point of playing "Where are you Moriaty?" without any understanding of the rules or context of the game, except to please the hardcore fans, and when a year is reduced to three strokes in the pool you have to wonder why it was worth even putting up the graphic.
Spoilers in the net paragraph - I couldn't think of another way of explaining my dislike of one one plot element.
I also have a big problem with the ending of the film, no not 2006 with it's crushing inevitability, but the storyline that links 05 to 06, given the lack of time spent on Em's maternal ambitions and the weight of the final conclusion it seems like a faked pass in very poor taste.
Spoilers over now.
Lone Scherfig directs with the same crisp detachment that she made An Education but without the purposeful plot of her previous films more was needed to keep the audience engaged.
Overall whilst One Day is nice enough and a passable way to spend a lazy afternoon it can only really be considered as a disappointment to the legion of book-lovers to whom this adaptation was squarely aimed.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Win Win
2011. Dir: Thomas McCarthy. Starring: Paul Giamatti, Amy Ryan, Alex Shaffer, Burt Young and Bobby Cannavale. ●●●●○
Win Win is not the type of film that does well in cinemas, bereft of high-profile stars, difficult to classify it's genre and featuring small scale family situations that don't sensationalise reality it has all the hallmarks of an American indie film that drifts past the box office figures and doesn't stir up awards talk. This is a shame as Tom McCarthy's third film is as close a vision of realistic humanity that we will see in the multiplex.
Paul Giamatti takes the central role of Mike Flaherty, a schlubby (natch) lawyer, high school wrestling coach and family man in a small town trying to make ends meet with his one man legal practice. He is, on the face of it, a paragon of suburban American values; he tries to set a good example to his young children (there's an extended early joke about the daughter picking up on rude words), dedicates time to his community and is unafraid to unblock his office toilet. There's the small matter of hiding his slow financial position from his wife (Amy Ryan) and his panic attacks from his best friend (Bobby Cannavale) but these are understandable, humanistic faults.
Then, in an attempt to save his business, he does one wrong thing. He take son the guardianship of Leo - an elderly client suffering from early stages of dementia (Burt Young) - and quickly puts him in a Nursing Home, pocketing the $1,500 per month. Within days Leo's hitherto unmentioned teenage grandson (Alex Shaffer) arrives on his doorstep, homeless and on the run from his drug dependent mother (Melanie Lynskey) and blessed with an extraordinary talent at wrestling.
Whilst you can probably guess where the plot goes from there, this movie is never about the twists and turns, it merely presents the predictability of life, exploring the relationships that drive this unlikely family unit and asks whether a bad deed can - in the end - lead to a good result.
Giamatti and Ryan put in sterling work as the central couple, he's all everyman desperation she's flinty and pragmatic, and they balance each other perfectly such that every sentence, every look comes across as the normal affectations of a genuine marriage. You know it's hard for them sometimes, and perhaps there are days when they bicker about the shopping and mundane nature of their existence, but ultimately there's real love in the pairing, somehow these two will make it through life's journey.
Alex Shaffer, as their unexpected visitor, is an odd screen presence, monosyllabic and quiet it takes a while to tune into his performance but it's perfectly judged. Listless and diffident it's a teenager performance that doesn't seem cliched or precocious. Whether charting his first steps at bonding with the other kids on the wrestling team or the unexpected journey the character has to make he is able to convey the emotion without losing sight of the teenage inability to fully express their thoughts. Shaffer is a first time screen-actor (although his experience as a high school wrestling champ is clearly in evidence) and I sincerely hope that he continues to work in the medium.
Cannavale and Jeffrey Tambor (as Giamatti's sad-sack assistant coach) are fine comedic foils to the main action, but have little to really do in the roles. The only missed note is Lynskey who overplays her neediness and whose character does not have the real-world nuances of everyone else.
Ultimately though as writer and director this is Tom McCarthy's film. He has returned to the rich mine of people struggling to make sense of the world around them and generally being missed in a crowd and has once again created characters and situations that we can all relate to and understand, ensuring that no-one is a saint or a rogue but a little of both, a combination of competing character traits. Whilst there is a general lack of ambition in the screenplay it doesn't matter so much when the content is as perfectly formed as the dramedy is here.
One annoying aspect is the product placement. Normally I would hardly notice the coke cans and computers however when one of the lines is "Oh, it's Wii Golf. You should try it, it's great." With more than one occasion of on-screen playing. All of these completely took me out of the picture.
This is a small film, about small things, but don't be fooled you will struggle to find a movie that presents such an intimate and true portrayal of average humanity this year.
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides
2011. Dir: Rob Marshall. Starring: Johnny Depp, Penelope Cruz, Geoffrey Rush, Ian McShane and Kevin McNally. ●●○○○
Since seeing Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides last week the question I've been asked more than any other was "Is it better than the last one?". If there was every a bigger display of the public relations disaster that was At World's End it's hard to imagine. Right now the potential audience for the latest in the Pirates franchise are trying to decide if it's worth going to. The answer is that it is, for the first 30 minutes at least, a better film, however it is still a predictably bad film.
After a bit of Spanish business, introducing the search for the fountain of youth to those of us who didn't really pay attention during the last film, we are thrust into Hanoverian London, with the crowds of artistically dirty peasant baying for the blood of Pirates in the Old Bailey (maybe a better directorial/writing team might have made some parallels to the hysteria over Bin Laden, but perhaps this isn't the right vehicle for that), and pretty soon we're re-introduced to the star of the show Johnny Depp's Captain Jack and his most loyal sidekick Gibbs, played by the good value Kevin McNally. In my cinema the punters cheered with delight when Depp first appeared proving this is his vehicle and as long as he's willing to do this you know there'll be an audience.
We are quickly launched into a hilarious escape bid from the palace of King George (although it appears to have been filmed in Hampton Court which kind of messes up London's geography) and the clutches of his arch-frenemy Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) which works like a Looney Tunes cartoon full of unlikely ducks and dives, hankerchiefs and strawberries all perfectly placed to aid Sparrow's delightful progress before he is launched onto the streets and into the arms of Judi Dench's cameo - again more could have been made of this, even a hint of Edith Evans in manic Tom Jones would've made it perfect but I did chuckle at her line - until finally he ends up in the pub where Penelope Cruz, masquerading as Sparrow, is recruiting a shipful of pirates to aid her and her father Blackbeard (Ian McShane). The fight between Depp and Cruz is well choreographed and funny to watch, easily the equal of the Depp/Bloom confrontation in the first film.
And then the film shudders to a halt as the various characters make their way to sea.
Like the previous film we spend over two hours with allegiances being swapped and endless exposition of the fantastical plot elements. There's a love story between a Priest and a Mermaid that's insipid enough to wish Keira Knightley and Orlando Bloom would come back, all the battles from here on seem perfunctory or confused and only a final act twist involving the Iberian troops offers anything close to a interesting moment. Given the film repeatedly talks about destiny and fortune telling there are few surprises in the final reel as each characters fate unfolds exactly as you would expect.
Depp and Rush appear to have watched the first Pirates movie and decided to do hammy impersonations of themselves rather than try for any characterisations, whilst the newbies do nothing to ingratiate themselves into the minds of the public. Ian McShane in particular does nothing memorable - there's nothing he does that comes to mind one week after having seen it.
Rob Marshall, the hack director taking the reins (known for his musicals Chicago and Nine), does some nice stuff in the London scenes but he doesn't have either Gore Verbinski's loopy vision or the ability to maintain tension in the second half. Although he's not helped by the flat script peppered with Carry On level double entendres ("I'm for the Missionaries position", "I'm still bent, devilishly so") that remind you this is an action comedy but not enough to persuade.
The highlight, as with all these films, is the music. Klaus Bedelt's main theme is still a corker that acts as a centrepiece for a score that works just as well (maybe better) without the rest of the movie.
Overall I wouldn't bother with this pointless retread, but when it hits TV in a couple of years time it'll be fine to watch the first quarter whilst waiting for something better to come on.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Hanna
2011. Dir: Joe Wright. Starring: Saoirse Ronan, Cate Blanchett, Eric Bana, Tom Hollander and Olivia Williams. ●●●●○
We have an interesting parallel for my review with Thor last weekend. Like the Marvel adaptation Hanna feels almost like two films tied together, the first a look at the almost superheroic powers of our heroine Saoirse Ronan, the other a gentle fish out of water comedy as Hanna mixes with "normal" people - a hippy family floating around Morocco. Where this movie outperforms the former is the general sense of menace, the stakes here are real, people - the innocent as well as the culpable - will get hurt just for interacting with the girl.
The story opens with Hanna living with her father, Eric Bana, in a woodcutters cottage close to the Arctic circle. He's educating her in every skill she'll need to know; a selection of languages, how to gut a caribou, the theory of music and how to break a man's neck. Understandable it's not a normal child-raising but then Hanna is not an ordinary child. Able to beat her father in combat you can see the strength and agility in every move she makes. We learn little about her at this point, but pay attention as every point that's made will be important later in the plot. From her words to the deer to the Grimm's fairy tales book she reads.
Indeed it's that link to Grimm that completely overwhelms the basic story. This is a modern fairy tale, one that takes our heroine from her humble beginnings through a journey of self-discovery where she must confront an evil step-mother (semi-renegade CIA agent Cate Blanchett) and face some cold truths about her own origins.
The closest to reality this film has is the foster like family, led by Olivia Williams and Jason Flemyng as a bickering and fascinating couple taking their children across Morocco and Southern Europe and reacting to the introduction and consequences of meeting the precocious protagonist. In this middle section Hanna begins to emotionally connect to her new family, experiencing a sense of familial attachment for the first time. This family are built on love not on a desperate need to avenge history.
In the meantime Blanchett recruits her wolves. A peroxide wigged Tom Hollander camply preening around his sex shops and neo-nazi thugs oozing menace like a predator in tennis shorts.
All the performances work in context of the movie, the grounded work by Williams and Flemyng nicely counterpointing the overacting of Hollander and Blanchett who totally owns the role, completely unafraid of working the stereotypes. The revelatory performance though is from Saoirse Ronan, with her clear eyes and virtually translucent skin she perfectly portrays the innocence and tenacity of the character, facing the collapse of her world and fighting her way through to the other side. It's hard to imagine this is the same girl who deservedly earned her first oscar nomination as the meddlesome sister in Joe Wright's Atonement.
Wright has proved himself a versatile and superb director with a picture that would at first glance appear to be completely outside of his comfort zone. Capable of creating tension in quiet scenes and filming some of the most well choreographed action scenes I've seen for a while this makes the prospect of Wright moving back into costume dramas for Anna Karenina seem just a little disappointing.
The film isn't perfect, there are some odd inconsistencies in Hanna's understanding and reaction to technology (partly I expect as a plot cheat) and the Chemical Brothers soundtrack doesn't work all the way through (although kudos to the second film in a year to feature Greig's In the Hall of the Mountain King and in a way that feels more natural and plot-underlining than The Social Network 8 months ago).
This is the first must see I've seen from this years crop, highly recommended and if this doesn't make it to my top ten at the end of the year then I'll probably have to eat my hat.
Thursday, 10 March 2011
4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days
2007. Dir: Cristian Mungiu. Starring: Anamaria Marinca, Vlad Ivanov, Laura Vasiliu, Alexandru Potocean and Ion Sapdaru. ●●●●○
In January Alex, of Alex in Movieland (if you're not a regular reader already check out both his blogs - his reviews are always a delight to read even if I don't always agree), won the 20 for 2011 competition and tasked me with reviewing the Palme D'Or winning Romanian film 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days. I was glad to be given such a serious task and it's one I hope I can rise to the challenge of.
Cristian Mungiu's film is a major landmark the resurgence of the Romanian film industry, when grouped with 2005's The Death of Mr. Lazarescu and Police, Adjective in 2009 as well as a number of less well-known but equally revered output we can see how Romania is leading the way in Eastern European cinema with this movement characterised within the scope of social realism.
Set during the last gasps of Communists dictatorships before the collapse of the iron curtain 4 Months nevertheless focuses on universal truths as relevant in 80's Bucharest as many areas of the globe today. Anywhere the state restricts personal freedoms or where girls must resort to backstreet abortionists to resolve their mistakes. The story revolves around student Otilia (superbly played by Anamaria Marinca) as she aids her friend and roommate Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) to arrange an illegal termination and to deal with the aftermath.
Throughout the process Otilia is hindered by Gabi's inability to admit to the size and scope of the issue, the petty bureaucracy of the times and the calm, menacing Bebe (Vlad Ivanov) who they've contracted for the job. At the same time her relationship with her middle class boyfriend Adi (Alexandru Potocean) is reaching a critical juncture complicated by her duty to aid her friend.
Marinca gives a shatteringly intense performance, believably pragmatic in the early scenes and understandably terse following Bebe's visit. Each look and gesture is nuanced and real, creating a living, breathing characterisation.
The supporting cast also do great jobs, but their impact is lesser due to the enormity of Marinca's performance. Ivanov is suitably sleazy (he is no Vera Drake) and whilst Vasiliu comes off as vacuous and demanding it's probably a conscious choice of the production.
Director Mungiu and cinematographer Oleg Mutu elect to use long static takes which emphasises the tension brought by the actors, even when they're hovering just off-screen with just a knee or a voice for the audience to pick up on. This also highlights the realism of the piece, as an audience member I felt I was just there with the actors. There is also no flinching from what is being done, the film would appear to have an open mind about the ethics of abortion however there are enough pro-life images (from Bebe's cruelty to the bloody foetus) to indicate a bias towards the pro-life camp.
Mungiu, who also wrote the script, manages to keep the audience guessing what's going on for the first third of the movie; it's a shame that the DVD sleeve gives the abortion centred plot away as I would have liked the opportunity to work that out. There's also clear indications of Otilia's place in society and probable future in the subtle writing however later in the movie the dinner table chatter of Adi's parents rather laboured the class differences and undone some of that good work.
It's not a perfect movie by any means, the measured pace sometimes flirts with boredom, and there are a few loose ends mainly prop related, but overall I would say whilst grim the movie is utterly involving and deserves a wider audience.
Thursday, 3 February 2011
The Dilemma
2011. Dir: Ron Howard. Starring: Vince Vaughn, Kevin James, Winona Ryder, Jennifer Connolly and Queen Latifah. ●●○○○
How do they say it? Dying is easy, comedy is hard. And judging by Ron Howard's latest effort, The Dilemma, comedy is very very hard. Actually I very nearly didn't judge this film in terms of it's comedy as there's only a couple of laughs to be had, then it occurred to me that would be awfully generous, not matter that it would work better as a drama the movie spends most of the time desperately trying to raise a chuckle and consistently fails so that's how it should be measured.
Vince Vaughn plays a salesman who's scored well above his league with top chef Jennifer Connelly. Vaughn's best friend and business partner Kevin James is even more inexplicably married to Winona Ryder, and has been since they were at college. It's no surprise that Ryder's playing it away with heavily tattooed Channing Tatum. Vaughn stumbles upon the two making out at the local tropical garden and then faces the decision of whether to pass this information on.
This has all the makings of a fine farce, with slapstick humour and uncomfortable conversations, and when the film succeeds it's aiming for those ideas. The fight between Vaughn and Tatum has a nice energy and Vaughn's monologue at a wedding anniversary raised a little titter, but most of the jokes fall utterly flat. Signposted and overwrought the one-liners limp into the characters mouths with no perceptible timing or any thought of consistency. Minor characters are introduced in order to create a "funny" situation or make an amusing statement. Queen Latifah in particular seems to have walked out of a completely different movie. In fact the whole section she represents, where the central duo are selling electric engines that vibrate, could have been completely exorcised from the movie without anyone caring.
The bigger issue is the moral quagmire the film seems to lower itself into. All of the central characters are deeply flawed human beings (Vaughn's a recovering gambling addict, James visits prostitutes, Connelly's secretive and patronising) to such an extent tht you don't care who is, or has been, sleeping with whom. It's almost justifible on many counts.
In terms of the performances only Ryder, all spiky and manipulative, and Tatum showing surprising talent for physical comedy come out with any credit. Below the line talent seems perfunctory and Howard does nothing to persuade his critics there's anything close to a competent director here.
Needless to say I regret putting this in my countdown for 2011. Avoid at all costs.
Sunday, 30 January 2011
20 for 2011: 1 - Contagion
Finally we reach my top pick for 2011, the film I'm most looking forward to seeing is...
Steven Soderbergh's Contagion.
Steven Soderbergh, that former darling of the American indie scene, is a cinematic chameleon, his back catalogue encompasses the full gamut of genres from biopics (Che) to star laden comedy (The Ocean's trilogy) to experimental art (Bubble). Even his misfires are generally considered to be worth watching, as they exhibit an understanding of form and content almost unparallelled in modern cinema.
For Contagion he reunites with The Informant writer Scott Z. Burns for what is described on imdb as "An action-thriller centered on the threat posed by a deadly disease and an international team of doctors contracted by the CDC to deal with the outbreak." That's just the tip of the iceberg, as the hyperlink movie will take in a variety of stories including familial sacrifice, panic-stirring bloggers, the collapse of Governments as well as the race to find a cure.
Originally planned to be shot in 3D, the latest I've heard is that has been quietly dropped as Soderbergh wasn't happy with the results, proof that he is serious about this multi-character drama. Indeed it seems to indicate the sort of serious mind he brought to Traffic, his superb take on the war on drugs.
Like that previous picture the cast is huge, and hugely talented, including Marion Cotillard, Matt Damon, Lawrence Fishburne, Elliott Gould, Jude Law, Gwynneth Paltrow, Kate Winslet and John Hawkes (recent Academy Award nominee for Winter's Bone). In case you weren't aware that little lot have 3 acting Oscars and a further 12 nominations between them, it's the sort of cast list you didn't think you'd see anymore and the sort of cast that wouldn't just sign on to anything.
In short this is a fascinating prospect, a director whosework I trust and have a long time affection for, working within a curious and underused genre with a castlist out of this world. How could anyone not be excited by this.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
20 for 2011: 2 - Dream House
Straining the credibility of my countdown at number 2 is Dream House.
I've been very lucky with the timing as the first shot of Dream House was released just this week, don't Daniel and Rachel look awfully vexed to you? I'm quite partial to high quality drama based direcors slumming it, and after the excellent Brothers I think this is Jim Sheridan's chance to have a bit of genre fun.
The premise involves stars Craig and Weisz moving into their dream property only to find out from the neighbours (Naomi Watts and Martin Csokas) that the previous tenants went on a Manson like killing spree. Oh, and there's a group of cult supporters of the imprisoned mass murderer who keep turning up. Cue some dramatic changes of character and nice jump cuts.
I'm hoping that the mix of Sheridan and thi fine cast indicate there's a quality script from David Loucka underneath the tired cliches of a plot. (Although frankly without this could still be a couple of hours of hokum and fun.)
Friday, 28 January 2011
20 for 2011: 3 - Twixt now and Sunrise
We're settling into the horror zone with number 3 Twixt now and Sunrise.
Bizarrely the director who's benefitted most from appearing in my top ten from 2010 is the one who should need it least: The Godfather and Apocalypse Now helmer Francis Ford Coppola. Watching Tetro was a reminder of the talent that Coppola used to be, before he wasted it on inferior studio fare in the 90's and a decade of wine production. Sure the story was pure soap opera but the look and feel of the film transcended it's origins.
This Val Kilmer starring horror may suffer from the same cliches as any number of Stephen King minor adaptations (see The Dark Half) as a writer blurs the line between fantasy and reality in his latest gothic masterpiece, but I thoroughly believe that Coppola can keep the suspense, beautiful film the sequences and, ultimately, give us enough to be able to ignore the histrionics.
Thursday, 27 January 2011
20 fr 2011: 4 - Rampart
Setting number 4 in it's targets is rengade cop thriller Rampart.
Over the last couple of weeks I have finally caught up wit 2009's The Messenger from director Oren Moverman and I confess to being utterly captivated by the calm sincerity of the piece. Ben Foster and Woody Harrelson both give superb performances as soldiers tasked with passing on the terrible news of the death of a loved one.
With that in mind I'm glad I'd already put this semi-true story so high on the list of forthcoming releases. The Rampart division was a department of the LAPD set up as a first response to high level drug crime and it's associated violence. Unfortunately it very soon became a nest of corruption. This film follows one of the last renegade cops, played by Harrelson, as he takes care of his family and fights for survival.
Oddly Ben Foster has recently been saying this is unlikely to ht the festival circuit until 2012, which given it's already in post-production seems awfully negative, but we'll keep our fingers crossed for a 2011 release.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
20 for 2011: 5 - Young Adult
Kicking off the top five is a unlikely non-romance Young Adult.
It's extremely difficult to imagine a world where Charlize Theron can't just click her fingers and get any man she wants, but in the latest collaboration between director Jason Reitman and writer Diablo Cody we are expected to do just that. The last time the two joined forces they createdthe critical and commercial smash hit Juno and whilst the dialogue will probably be less self-conciously hip this time around we can still expect some classy zingers and real understanding of how people work.
Theron plays an author of "young adult" fiction who moves back to her midwest hometown to reconnect with old flame Patrick Wilson, who's now married to Elizabeth Reaser (Esme Cullen in the Twilight movies so no stunt casting there). Lessons will probably be learnt about being yourself and accepting other people for who they are - I don't mean to be trite I am looking forward to this.
Monday, 24 January 2011
20 for 2011: Competition
Every year I like to offer a sall prize for anyone guessing my most anticipated movie for the forthcoming cinematic year. We're down to just 5 films on the countdown so I wold love to hear your guesses (and your own opinions).
There's no set prize this year, so when you enter please tell me what you want as a prize (please be reasonable), last year I sent chocolates so that's more of less what we're looking at.
The winner will be the first person to guess the top film, or if no-one gets it the highest placing film not already mentioned (so if you guess today and get number 5 that will win it if no-one does any better).
As a clue I have mentioned the top film 6 times in the blog already, 3 times on news (although one of those was just casting) and 3 times in birthdays.
The countdown will resume on Wednesday, so get guessing.
Sunday, 23 January 2011
20 for 2011: 6 - Pirates of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides
Sailing into number 6 on the countdown is Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides
Proving I'm as vacuous and empty-headed as most movie goers, like a pre-programmed automaton I will flock to see the fourth peaen to commercialism that is the Pirates series of films. It's hard to imagine any of these years crop of releases claiming the box office crown of 2011, only the new Transformers film has any remote chance (Pixar have only a sequel to a middling performer, the coic book releases are minor characters and Potter and Twilight never seem to be able to make that final leap to the top).
That won't be the only reason to watch, from the trailer there looks to be a scenery chewing competition between Rush and Ian McShane as Blackbeard, not to mention Johnny Depp coming back to do a caricature of his previous performances of Jack Sparrow. It'll be interesting to see if Rob Marshall can carry off action scenes with the same talent he displays with his musicals (all cuts and close-ups, with most of it happening in the characters heads).
I expect my comments come across as cynical, given my thoughts why would this juggernaut appear so high on the countdown? Does the relentless selling of the movie compensate for my fear of it's history? Apparantly so. And to be honest I'll probably leave my brain at the door and just have bit of fun watching it.
Saturday, 22 January 2011
20 for 2011: 7 - War Horse and The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn
I'm cheating here at number 7 and calling it a draw between The Adventures of Tintin and War Horse, it's a Steven Spielberg double bill.
It's not the first time Spielberg has released two films in the same year, in 2005 we had War of the Worlds and Munich, in 1993 it was Jurassic Park and Schindler's List and similar pairings happened in 1989, 1997 and 2002. In each case there was a popcorn film and one with more personal themes. This year looks set to be the same with Tintin pushing the boundaries of motion capture and the adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's horse and his boy novel.
All in all I think we can expect to see Steven both reaching the top of the box office charts as well as critics top tens in the coming year.
